Introduction

A Pan-African bond was supposed to unite African nations in brotherhood – a principle Nigeria has upheld passionately since independence. Yet today, Nigerians suffer harrowing mistreatment in countries like Ghana and South Africa, where xenophobic fervor and narrow nationalism have erased memories of Nigeria’s past sacrifices. A recent video circulating on social media shows protesters in Accra clamoring for Nigerians to be sent away, accusing them of stealing jobs and committing crimes. In South Africa, periodic riots see black migrants – especially Nigerians – macheted in the streets of Johannesburg, Pretoria, and Durban. The bitter irony is that Nigeria, driven by leaders like Nnamdi Azikiwe and following Kwame Nkrumah’s Pan-African ideals, invested blood and treasure to uplift these very countries. This essay presents a fiery exposé of these betrayals, tracing the historical arcs of Nigeria-Ghana and Nigeria-South Africa relations. It blends historical exposition with hard-hitting commentary, ultimately arguing that Nigeria must adopt a tougher “Nigeria First” policy – “no help without tangible benefits”. It is high time Nigeria demand respect and reciprocity from supposed African “brothers” who have repaid goodwill with hostility.

Ghana: Pan-African Idealism Meets Bitter Betrayal

In 1960, newly independent Nigeria eagerly embraced Pan-Africanism, taking inspiration from Ghana’s own founding president, Kwame Nkrumah. Nkrumah championed African unity and invited fellow Africans to invest and settle in Ghana as partners in development. Under Nkrumah’s pan-African welcome, Nigerian migrants flocked to Ghana, becoming pillars of Ghana’s economy in the mid-20th century. By the early 1960s, Nigerians constituted the largest immigrant group in Ghana – over 191,000 Nigerians by 1963 – and had “contributed immensely to the socio-economic development of Ghana” as traders, cocoa farmers, transporters, and artisans. This was African cooperation at its finest: Nigerians toiling on Ghanaian cocoa farms, running transport businesses, and helping fuel Ghana’s post-colonial economy.

All that promise evaporated after 1966, when a military coup led by Gen. Emmanuel Kotoka toppled Nkrumah. Ghana’s new rulers swiftly abandoned Nkrumah’s pan-African policies. Economic hard times hit, and migrants became scapegoats. The climax came in November 1969, under the civilian Prime Minister Kofi Busia, who promulgated the infamous Aliens Compliance Order. This edict ordered all undocumented foreigners – mostly other Africans – to leave Ghana within just two weeks. In effect, Busia’s Ghana turned its anger on Nigerians, blaming them (and other West African immigrants) for unemployment and crime. Ghanaian authorities gave Nigerians practically no time to prepare – just days to pack up lives built over decades. According to historical accounts, banks were instructed to impose absurd limits on withdrawals for departing migrants (reportedly no more than £200, regardless of one’s balance), effectively confiscating Nigerians’ life savings. Ordinary Ghanaians and even state agents seized homes, shops, farms and assets left behind by fleeing Nigerians. The Nigerian press at the time carried “horror stories” of Ghanaians literally fighting over properties of expelled foreigners. Families who had lived in Ghana for generations were reduced to destitute refugees overnight.

Ghanaians rejoiced as Nigerians were forced out. Busia’s expulsion order was wildly popular on the Ghanaian street – hailed as a “patriotic move to garner jobs for Ghanaians and rid the country of crime,” as one account notes. Crowds reportedly cheered while Nigerians, including those who had called Ghana home for decades, trudged to the ports and borders with whatever belongings they could carry. But Ghana’s triumphalism was painfully short-lived. In driving away Nigerians, Ghana shot itself in the foot. Nigerians had dominated key sectors; once they were gone, Ghana’s economy swiftly crumbled. Cocoa production, the backbone of Ghana’s export economy, “dropped” precipitously after 1969 due to the exodus of Nigerian farmers. Transportation services, largely run by enterprising Nigerians, ground to a halt – domestic and regional transport collapsed, stranding commerce. Within a few years, Ghana’s once-envied economy lay in tatters, a casualty of xenophobic policy.

Ghana soon realized the folly of killing the goose that laid the golden eggs. By the late 1970s, Ghana was in such economic despair that hundreds of thousands of Ghanaians fled to Nigeria, seeking the very livelihood their country had denied Nigerians. During Ghana’s hard times under military ruler Jerry Rawlings, and later under President Hilla Limann, Nigeria became a lifeline for desperate Ghanaian migrants. By 1980, roughly one million Ghanaians resided in Nigeria – a dramatic reversal of the migration flow. Nigerians, remembering 1969, wryly dubbed the influx “Ghana Must Go” – a phrase that would soon take on a sharper edge.
In 1983, Nigeria suffered its own economic downturn (after an oil boom went bust) and, facing public pressure, President Shehu Shagari enacted a retaliatory mass expulsion. Over 1 million undocumented immigrants – the majority Ghanaians – were deported from Nigeria in early 1983. It was a harsh measure, driven partly by the same ugly scapegoating logic that Busia had used: Shagari’s government absurdly claimed that Ghanaian migrants were stealing Nigerian jobs and worsening Nigeria’s economic woes. Hundreds of thousands of Ghanaians, many penniless, had to trek back to Ghana, famously carrying their belongings in checkered plastic bags that Nigerians nicknamed “Ghana Must Go” bags. Tit-for-tat had come full circle. The mutual mass expulsions of 1969 and 1983 remain a tragic chapter in West African history, souring relations between two erstwhile allies. It took years for trust and “mutual respect to be reinstalled” between Nigeria and Ghana.

Nigeria’s Lifeline to a Sinking Ghana

After the turmoil of the 1980s, cooler heads eventually prevailed. Subsequent Ghanaian leaders – from Jerry Rawlings to John Kufuor – recognized that mending fences with Nigeria was both economically and diplomatically essential. Nigeria’s sheer size and oil wealth made it West Africa’s regional powerhouse, and Ghana’s collapsing economy needed a boost that only Nigerian cooperation could provide. Thus, Ghana’s presidents effectively made pilgrimages to Abuja, beseeching Nigeria for help in rebuilding Ghana’s shattered economy and restoring friendly relations. In the 1990s and 2000s, Nigeria responded magnanimously – arguably too magnanimously – in forgiving past transgressions and extending a helping hand to Ghana.

A turning point came in the early 2000s under Nigeria’s President Olusegun Obasanjo. By then, Ghana (under President Kufuor) was facing chronic energy and fuel crises. In a candid recollection, former Ghanaian President John Kufuor described how dire the situation was when he assumed office in 2001: Ghana was suffering “biting” fuel shortages, with endless queues at filling stations. Kufuor flew to Abuja to plead with Obasanjo for a lifeline. At first, Obasanjo hesitated – Ghana already owed Nigeria money for previous oil deliveries – but Kufuor persisted. Finally, “Nigeria obliged us,” Kufuor recounted gratefully. Obasanjo approved a generous deal: 30,000 barrels of crude oil per day to Ghana on a deferred payment basis – essentially oil on credit for 90 days. This Nigerian lifeline immediately eased Ghana’s fuel crisis; as Kufuor pointed out proudly to Ghanaians, once the deal kicked in, the debilitating petrol queues “disappeared”.

Nigeria did not stop at short-term relief. Obasanjo’s government went further, stepping in to support Ghana’s long-term energy infrastructure. When Ghana was struggling to finance its share of the ambitious West African Gas Pipeline project, President Obasanjo personally intervened. He instructed his finance minister (then Ms. Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala) to arrange an $80 million support for Ghana’s stake in the project, on the spot, during a meeting with Kufuor. In Kufuor’s words, “the deal was struck” thanks to Obasanjo’s fraternal assistance. Such gestures – ad hoc bailout funds, oil on easy credit – became hallmarks of Nigeria-Ghana relations during the 2000s. Even after Obasanjo, subsequent Nigerian administrations continued supplying Ghana with crude oil and refined products on lenient terms. In 2009, for instance, Ghana’s President Atta Mills secured an extension of Nigeria’s oil credit line from 90 days to payment terms of 180 days, with Nigeria doubling the supply to up to 60,000 barrels per day. Basically, Nigeria kept Ghana’s lights on and cars running, while allowing Ghana to defer payment for months. At times, Ghana fell behind on payments or defaulted on debts for these supplies, yet Nigeria did not bully or sanction its smaller neighbor – the oil kept flowing, a testament to Nigeria’s generous spirit.

Beyond energy, Nigeria assisted Ghana in other critical areas. During Ghana’s lean years, Nigeria provided direct budgetary support to keep essential services afloat. It is often noted that Nigeria quietly shouldered some costs of Ghana’s security sector in the 1980s, helping pay salaries of Ghanaian military and police at a time when Ghana’s government could barely make payroll. Nigeria also invested in Ghana’s infrastructure: constructing and rehabilitating major roads and facilities as part of regional cooperation initiatives. In Accra, one major arterial road was rebuilt with Nigerian funding and was subsequently named Olusegun Obasanjo Way in honor of the Nigerian president’s contributions. (Ghana, it must be said, has not gone much further than such token gestures – a road named after Obasanjo – in acknowledging the scale of Nigeria’s help.)

By the mid-2000s, thanks in part to Nigeria’s aid, Ghana’s economy had stabilized and begun growing again. Nigerian investors were also returning to Ghana, opening businesses and bolstering Ghana’s banking, telecom, and service sectors. Nigeria forgave past animosities for the sake of African brotherhood. The only “thank you” Ghana offered, as some Nigerian observers have caustically noted, was that Obasanjo road in Accra – after Nigeria literally built or financed many of the roads in Accra – and a perfunctory debt of gratitude expressed in speeches. Nigeria did not demand reparations for the losses Nigerians suffered in 1969, nor interest on the help extended afterward. The imbalance in the relationship was stark: Nigeria gave, Ghana took.

Yet incredibly, this pattern of ingratitude persists. Even today, when Nigerians in Ghana contribute significantly to Ghana’s economy, they face resentment and hostility. Thousands of Nigerian students pay hefty tuition fees to Ghanaian universities, Nigerian entrepreneurs create jobs, and Nigerian traders energize markets in Accra and Kumasi. These Nigerians abroad are “making significant contributions to the host country’s economy,” as one analyst noted, from paying millions in education fees to investing in businesses. How has Ghana responded? In recent years, rather than gratitude, we’ve seen a resurgence of xenophobic rhetoric and policies targeting Nigerians. Ghana’s government imposed regulations effectively locking Nigerian traders out of certain markets (for example, a law requiring foreign retailers to have $1 million in capital – aimed squarely at Nigerian shop-owners). Nigerian-owned shops have been forcibly closed. In 2019, news broke that Ghana had deported 723 Nigerians, often inhumanely – ostensibly for offences like cybercrime or prostitution, but with reports of mistreatment and torture of those detained. The Ghana Immigration Service’s heavy-handed deportations, skirting ECOWAS protocols on free movement, caused a diplomatic rift. Nigerian officials quietly seethed at the hypocrisy: Ghana, of all countries, expelling Nigerians without due process, despite all Nigeria had done to keep Ghana afloat. Public sentiment in Nigeria began to turn, with calls that if Ghana does not cease such behavior, Nigeria might return the favor by expelling the over 500,000 Ghanaians living in Nigeria (nearly half of whom may be undocumented).

In Ghana’s streets and media, dangerous stereotypes are spreading – painting Nigerians as criminals and job-snatchers. The viral video of Ghanaians protesting to “send Nigerians away”, accusing Nigerians of everything from armed robbery to taking over local jobs, is a chilling reminder of 1969. It seems some Ghanaians have forgotten the cost of xenophobia to their own country. As one Nigerian commentator lamented in response to Ghana’s recent deportations: “If Africans do not treat each other with respect and dignity, how can the continent expect the rest of the world to respect Africans?”. Indeed, what example is Ghana setting? These actions undermine West African unity and give a green light to Europe and America to treat African immigrants with similar contempt – an ugly irony noted by observers who warn, “We cannot be hypocritical” by condemning Western xenophobia while practicing it at home.

South Africa: Freedom Won with Nigeria’s Blood and Gold

If Ghana’s ingratitude stings, South Africa’s feels like a stab in the back. Few bilateral relationships in Africa carry as much historical weight as Nigeria and South Africa. During the dark decades of apartheid, Nigeria was nowhere near Southern Africa geographically, yet it stood out as one of the apartheid regime’s most unyielding enemies. From the early 1960s, Nigeria put principle above profit, dedicating its foreign policy to the liberation of Black South Africans. This was not a token effort – it was a massive, costly commitment sustained over 30 years. History records that Nigeria gave more financial and material support to the anti-apartheid struggle than perhaps any other nation on earth.

The facts speak for themselves. As early as 1960, Nigeria established the National Committee Against Apartheid (NACAP) – the only country in the world to have such an official body at the time. Nigerian Prime Minister Tafawa Balewa in 1961 led the charge to expel South Africa from the British Commonwealth after the Sharpeville Massacre. He also provided the first direct funding to the exiled African National Congress (ANC). In the 1970s, under military and civilian governments alike, Nigeria maintained that commitment: it gave $5 million annually to the ANC and the Pan Africanist Congress (PAC), a huge sum in those days. At the height of the liberation struggle, Nigeria helped sustain the fight when many others wavered.

In 1976, following the Soweto uprising, Nigeria created the Southern Africa Relief Fund (SARF) (also called the Southern Africa Relief Fund, SAFR). This fund provided humanitarian relief and education to apartheid’s victims – effectively a means to support Black South African refugees and students. To finance it, ordinary Nigerians literally fed South Africa from their own pockets. The military head of state, Gen. Olusegun Obasanjo, kick-started the fund with a $3.7 million contribution from Nigeria’s government. Obasanjo himself donated $3,000 of his personal money, and each of his ministers gave $1,500 – a gesture of true brotherhood. Then came the Nigerian people: every civil servant had 2% of their salary docked as a mandatory contribution to the apartheid freedom fund. This was nicknamed the “Mandela Tax” in Nigeria – a badge of honor worn with pride. School children and university students even skipped meals to save money, which they donated toward South Africa’s liberation. In just six months of 1977, popular donations to the fund reached $10.5 million. Imagine that: Nigerians going hungry for the sake of South African freedom.

By the 1980s, Nigeria’s support had scaled to extraordinary levels. An article by the South African Institute of International Affairs later estimated that Nigeria’s total contributions to the anti-apartheid effort exceeded $60 billion between 1960 and 1995. This figure includes the economic sacrifices Nigeria made by enforcing oil sanctions. Nigeria is an oil-producing nation, and selling oil is its main income – yet Nigeria unilaterally refused to sell a drop of oil to apartheid South Africa, despite lucrative opportunities. For decades, successive Nigerian governments upheld this oil embargo as moral duty. The cost to Nigeria was enormous: by one estimate, Nigeria lost around $41–45 billion in potential oil revenues by boycotting trade with South Africa. No other nation made such a costly sacrifice to isolate the apartheid regime. In fact, Nigeria championed international sanctions at every turn – pushing for sports boycotts, cultural boycotts, UN sanctions – often when many Western powers were still doing business with Pretoria. Nigeria even barred aircraft: during apartheid, any South African government aircraft or airline was prohibited from Nigerian airspace or airports (Nigerian officials urged all African countries to similarly deny overflight and landing rights to South African planes).

Not only did Nigeria give money and impose sanctions, it also gave hope and refuge to South African freedom fighters. The Lagos government routinely issued hundreds of Nigerian passports to South African activists and exiles who could not travel on apartheid passports. Top ANC officials like Thabo Mbeki lived in Nigeria for years – Mbeki spent seven years in Nigeria (1977–1984) under Nigeria’s protection. Nelson Mandela himself, shortly before his 1962 arrest, visited Nigeria to seek support. Throughout the 1970s and 1980s, scores of Black South African students were admitted to Nigerian universities – completely free of charge. Nigeria covered their tuition, living expenses, and even stipends for their families back home. By 1976, the first batch of 86 South African students arrived in Nigeria; over the years, hundreds benefited from these scholarship programs. In Nigerian schools, anti-apartheid clubs and student movements sprouted, mobilizing youth support for South African freedom. Nigerian musicians and artists also joined the fight – famous singers like Sonny Okosun and Majek Fashek wrote hit songs (“Fire in Soweto”, “Free Mandela”) rallying public opinion against apartheid. Popular culture and media in Nigeria were harnessed to raise awareness; one could not walk through a Nigerian city in the 1980s without seeing posters screaming “Apartheid is a Crime Against Humanity” – because the Nigerian government made sure of it. For over 30 years, Nigeria chaired the UN Special Committee Against Apartheid, using that platform to doggedly lobby world opinion against Pretoria. From high diplomacy to grassroots education, Nigeria threw its weight fully into South Africa’s liberation.

This outpouring of support was not without cost to Nigerians themselves. Nigeria in the 1980s was under military rule and facing economic difficulties, yet the commitment to African solidarity did not waver. Many Nigerians truly saw apartheid as their fight. They paid a “Mandela Tax” and bore the inconveniences of sanctions (for instance, not being able to watch their sports heroes play against South Africa). It was a collective moral investment in a future where South Africa would be free and, presumably, grateful. In 1994, that dream was realized: apartheid fell, Nelson Mandela walked free and became president, and South Africa joined the community of African democracies. Nigeria’s contributions were not lost on the leaders of the new South Africa. Mandela visited Nigeria to say thanks; in 1995, on a state visit, he personally thanked Nigerians and said their selfless contributions would be remembered. Indeed, for a brief moment, it seemed a foundation was set for a profound Nigeria–South Africa brotherhood built on mutual respect.

Xenophobia and Ingratitude in Post-Apartheid South Africa

Unfortunately, the goodwill of leaders like Mandela and Mbeki did not fully permeate the South African populace, nor endure in the government’s policies. As apartheid’s legacy of inequality persisted in South Africa (with a white minority still holding most wealth and the Black majority facing high unemployment and poverty), frustration began misdirecting toward African migrants. The very people who had stood in solidarity during the struggle – Nigerians, Zimbabweans, Mozambicans, Somalis, Ethiopians and other African immigrants – became convenient scapegoats for South Africa’s socioeconomic ills. It is a bitter and painful development: Black South Africans, once victims of racist hatred, perpetrating xenophobic hatred against fellow Africans. And Nigerians, being prominent and relatively successful as immigrants, have been prime targets.

Consider the frequency and brutality of xenophobic attacks in South Africa’s recent history. In 2008, barely 14 years after apartheid’s end, a wave of anti-immigrant pogroms swept townships around Johannesburg; at least 62 people were killed – many burnt alive or beaten to death – in what the world witnessed as a shocking spasm of Afrophobic violence. Those killed included Zimbabweans, Mozambicans, and Nigerians among others. The pattern repeated: 2015 saw another surge of nationwide attacks on African migrants, prompting Nigeria and other countries to urgently evacuate their citizens. Riots and looting of foreign-owned shops recurred in 2017 and again in 2019, each time accompanied by horrifying images: streets littered with burnt vehicles, gutted shops, and bloodied bodies of African migrants. In one notorious incident in 2019, mobs in Johannesburg targeted Nigerian-owned businesses and homes, leading Nigeria’s government to recall its ambassador in protest. By some accounts, dozens of Nigerians have been killed in South Africa over the past decade in xenophobic incidents, though an exact toll is hard to ascertain (South African officials often downplay the “xenophobia” label, as if semantics could wash the blood off the streets).

This sustained hostility is deeply puzzling and infuriating to Nigerians. “After all we did for South Africa, is this how we are repaid?” is a common refrain. The sense of betrayal cuts deep. Nigerians point out that Nigerian doctors and nurses fill South African hospitals, tending to South African patients. Nigerian lecturers and professors teach in South African universities, expanding knowledge for South African youth. Nigerian entrepreneurs run businesses that employ South Africans. In short, Nigerians are contributing positively to South Africa’s development at every level. Yet, large segments of South African society perceive them only as criminals or competitors. A 2018 Pew survey found 62% of South Africans irrationally believed immigrants burdened society by taking jobs and crime – a tragic echo of the same bigoted excuses Ghana used in 1969 and Shagari used in 1983. South African politicians have fanned these flames: even a Foreign Minister as educated as Dr. Naledi Pandor publicly castigated Nigerians as drug-dealers and human traffickers, effectively tarring an entire nationality with a criminal brush. As one outraged Nigerian observer responded, “I’m sure South Africans were into drugs before Nigerians came. This is not to say Nigerian drug dealers don’t exist – but South African authorities are more than capable of dealing with criminals regardless of nationality.” The point is clear: crime knows no passport, and blaming Nigerians collectively is a cowardly distraction from South Africa’s real problems.

What makes South African xenophobia particularly galling is the one-sidedness of the economic relationship – in South Africa’s favor. While Nigerians in South Africa number perhaps 30,000–50,000 (many of them professionals), South African companies in Nigeria are raking in billions of dollars. MTN, the South African telecom giant, is Nigeria’s largest mobile network, with over 70 million Nigerian subscribers – more customers in Nigeria than South Africa’s entire population. MTN Nigeria is by far the company’s most profitable arm, contributing a huge chunk of MTN’s global revenue. Stanbic IBTC (a subsidiary of South Africa’s Standard Bank) operates a lucrative banking business in Nigeria. MultiChoice, which offers DSTv and GOtv services, has Nigeria as its biggest market – Nigeria now has about 9.7 million pay-TV subscribers vs. 9.3 million in South Africa. Other South African chains like Shoprite (retail), Protea (hospitality), and DSTV’s entertainment channels derive enormous profit from Nigerian consumers. To put it bluntly, South African businesses have found a gold mine in Nigeria’s 200 million-strong market – far larger than South Africa’s own 60 million – and they face little hostility from Nigerians in return. Nigerians buy their airtime, drink their beer, watch their cable TV, and enrich their shareholders. Even during periods of tension, Nigeria’s government did not expropriate South African assets or systematically harass South African nationals. (Yes, there were some boycotts and street protests in Nigeria targeting MTN and Shoprite after the 2019 attacks, but those were spontaneous public reactions, not state policy – and they fizzled out after assurances were made.) By and large, Nigeria has treated South Africans on its soil with the same hospitality extended to any African brother or sister.

So we have a perverse situation: Nigeria sacrificed immensely to liberate South Africa, and today South African corporations cheerfully exploit Nigeria’s market, yet ordinary South Africans baselessly accuse Nigerians of “taking jobs” and respond with violence. One can’t help but recall an Igbo proverb: “When two brothers fight, a stranger inherits the estate.” In this case, when Nigeria and South Africa are at odds, only non-African interests benefit. The Western media barely covered the 2019 xenophobic riots – perhaps African lives don’t matter to them until there’s geopolitical gain. Meanwhile, divisions between Africa’s two biggest economies only please those who prefer a weakened Africa. It is beyond painful – it is infuriating.

A South African columnist, Ulrich Janse van Vuuren, writing amid the 2017 xenophobic flare-ups, admonished his fellow South Africans with words that every Ghanaian and South African antagonist of Nigeria should heed: “Intolerant South Africans can learn a few things about unity from Nigerians. Maybe some need to be reminded of the major role Nigeria played in empowering our citizens and liberating our country.”. Indeed, South Africans have forgotten who their real friends were. The same writer noted that by refusing to deal with xenophobia, South Africa is effectively spitting on Nigeria’s legacy of support. And he’s right. Nigeria’s role “cannot be underplayed – Nigeria was instrumental [in ending apartheid]”. We Nigerians remember cheering with joy when Mandela was freed and apartheid fell. We considered it a proud achievement of all Africans. That solidarity is part of why these current events feel like such a betrayal of African unity.

Economic Ironies: Nigerian Generosity, African Dependence

Examining both the Ghanaian and South African cases side by side, a striking commonality emerges: Nigeria has been overly generous to these countries, and they have become somewhat dependent on Nigeria’s economic might – yet they remain openly ungrateful or even hostile. Consider Ghana: after driving Nigerians out and wrecking its cocoa farms and transport, Ghana turned around and effectively hitched its energy security to Nigerian oil. To this day, Ghana relies on Nigeria for a significant portion of its fuel and gas – reliance that has increased, not decreased, over time. Yet instead of treating Nigerians in Ghana with gratitude, some Ghanaians hold protests to kick them out, forgetting that Nigerian investment and expertise are still aiding Ghana’s prosperity. Likewise in South Africa, Nigerian talent and capital flows support sectors from health to education to telecoms, and South African multinationals gleefully count their Nigerian profits, even as mob chants of “Kick the Nigerians out!” echo in the streets of Pretoria. These are unsustainable and unjust dynamics.

Nigeria’s Pan-African ethos, admirable as it is, has been taken for granted and abused. These brotherly nations have convinced themselves that Nigeria’s help is an entitlement, not a favor – and that mistreating Nigerians carries no consequences. This cannot continue. Nigeria’s kindness is being repaid with malice, and it is high time Nigeria recalibrates its foreign relations to protect its dignity and national interest.

Time for a Nigeria-First Policy: No More Mr. Nice Giant

Nigeria must learn from these bitter experiences and adopt a tougher stance moving forward. The United States often ties its foreign aid and interventions to clear national interests – quid pro quo. Nigeria should do the same in Africa: no more blank checks, no more unconditional rescues for countries that turn around and flog our citizens. It is time for Nigeria to put itself first, and wield its considerable economic and political leverage to demand respect. Here are key policy recommendations for Nigeria’s leadership:

• Condition All Assistance on Reciprocal Benefit: Nigeria should formally link any future aid, investment or special concessions to Ghana, South Africa, or any other country to tangible returns for Nigeria. For example, if Ghana asks for continued oil supply on deferred payment, Nigeria must negotiate something in return – say, preferential access to Ghana’s resources or markets. Ghana is developing new mineral resources (gold, bauxite, and potentially lithium – a “rare earth” mineral critical for batteries); Nigeria could insist on joint venture rights or mining concessions as part of any aid deal. This mirrors how big powers operate: no help comes free. If South Africa wants Nigeria’s cooperation in African forums or wants Nigerian talent to keep staffing its hospitals and universities, then South Africa’s government must crack down decisively on xenophobia and ensure Nigerians’ safety – or face losing Nigerian economic cooperation.

• Enforce Diplomatic Reciprocity and Protection: The Nigerian government should make the protection of Nigerians abroad a red line in bilateral relations. Ambassadors must be prepared to protest and even threaten diplomatic consequences (such as suspension from visa-free travel zones or withholding of certain bilateral privileges) if citizen safety is not assured. For instance, Nigeria could leverage the African Union and ECOWAS platforms to pass resolutions condemning xenophobia, pushing for enforceable protocols that penalize member states that enable or overlook violent attacks on African immigrants. If attacks on Nigerians recur in South Africa, Nigeria should be ready to expel a proportional number of South African nationals or executives from Nigerian soil – a strong but necessary message that our people cannot be attacked with impunity.

• Utilize Economic Leverage Strategically: Nigeria is a coveted market and an oil supplier; these are powerful tools. Nigeria should not hesitate to use targeted economic sanctions or boycotts in response to egregious anti-Nigerian actions. For example, if Ghana continues to harass Nigerian traders, Nigeria can restrict Ghanaian imports or shut out Ghanaian firms from Nigerian contracts. If South African authorities do not rein in xenophobic violence, Nigeria can temporarily suspend the operations of specific South African companies in Nigeria until concrete action is taken (e.g., temporarily revoke MTN’s license or impose fines – measures that would grab Pretoria’s attention). In 2019, Nigerians already demonstrated the impact of consumer boycotts – there were calls to boycott MTN and Shoprite, which prompted South African business leaders to lobby their government for better handling of xenophobia. Such pressure should be institutionalized: make it Nigerian state policy that foreign companies from hostile countries will pay a price if their home country mistreats Nigerians. Nothing will make Pretoria or Accra act faster than seeing their companies’ profits in Nigeria threatened.

• Secure Legal and Economic Rights for Nigerians in Africa: Nigeria can negotiate bilateral agreements or Memoranda of Understanding (MOUs) that explicitly protect the rights of Nigerian nationals working or doing business in Ghana, South Africa, and elsewhere. For example, a bilateral treaty with Ghana could guarantee that Nigerian traders will not be subjected to sudden, discriminatory regulations (like that $1 million capital requirement), and if such a thing is attempted, Nigeria could legally retaliate under the agreement. Similarly, agreements with South Africa could ensure that crimes against Nigerians are thoroughly investigated and prosecuted, with regular reports shared to Nigerian authorities. Essentially, Nigeria must move from gentleman’s agreements to binding agreements. If these countries truly value Nigerian relations, they should have no problem signing on to basic protections – and if they refuse, that tells us where we stand.

• Leverage Rare Earth and Strategic Resources Deals: The modern global economy prizes access to rare earth minerals and other strategic resources (like coltan, cobalt, lithium – essential for electronics and renewable energy technologies). Nigeria should emulate the “American line” by leveraging its assistance or market access for deals securing Nigeria-friendly terms in these sectors. For instance, if Nigeria is to continue being the peacekeeper and crisis-manager in Africa (something we’ve done in Liberia, Sierra Leone, Sudan, etc.), we might as well secure future resource supply lines in return. It’s a cold calculation, but years of altruism have taught us that pure solidarity is often underappreciated. An example could be: Nigeria agrees to help mediate or fund a program in Country X, and in exchange, Nigerian companies get priority in bidding for mining licenses there. Applying this specifically to our cases, Nigeria could demand stakes for Nigerian firms in South African mining projects (South Africa has platinum and others) or Ghana’s extractive industries if we are to maintain special relations. This way, Nigeria’s generosity directly strengthens Nigeria’s economic position, rather than just being a feel-good exercise.

• Support Nigerians to “Go Global” if Unwelcome in Africa: Another sobering recommendation is that Nigeria should also help its citizens diversify where they go. If Ghana and South Africa turn hostile, Nigerian entrepreneurs and professionals can be encouraged to seek opportunities in more welcoming African countries or even beyond Africa. Nigeria can facilitate this by signing labor migration agreements with countries that want Nigerian talent (for example, Rwanda or Canada) to reduce our reliance on a few locales. At home, Nigeria should of course continue to improve conditions so that our brightest people don’t all need to leave – but migration is natural. The key is not to let them be sitting ducks in any one country. If tomorrow Nigerians gradually left South Africa for say, Kenya or Tanzania, believe it, South Africa would feel the loss in its healthcare and education systems. Sometimes quietly shifting our human capital flow is a strategic response.

These policy shifts signal a new mindset: Nigeria will no longer play benevolent big brother at its own expense. We will always champion African unity, but unity must be a two-way street of respect.

Conclusion: No More Free Passes – Respect for Nigeria or Nothing

In international relations, as in personal relationships, no one respects a perpetual giver who demands nothing in return. For far too long, Nigeria’s foreign policy towards Africa has been guided by an emotional Pan-Africanism – noble, but often unreciprocated. Nigeria bled for African causes, only to have some Africans turn around and bleed our people or bleed our economy. This must end.

It is time for Nigeria to toe the American line in the best sense: adopt a hard-nosed policy that our national interest comes first. When we extend a helping hand, it will be with our other hand firmly grasping a contract that secures Nigerian advantage. When we sit at the table with Ghana or South Africa, we must sit not as the sentimental “elder brother” to be guilt-tripped or taken advantage of, but as an equal power that demands mutual respect, accountability, and benefit.

If Ghana wishes to revel in shortsighted nationalism by targeting Nigerian traders, then Nigeria can just as easily shut its markets to Ghana’s exports and see who hurts more – no more free rides on Nigeria’s economy. If South Africa cannot guarantee the safety and dignity of Nigerians on its soil, then South African businesses should not feel so cozy making money on Nigerian soil. It’s that simple.

In the end, Nigeria still believes in African unity and always will. But unity cannot mean one side perpetually sacrifices while the other side pillories them. Unity must be built on justice. The lesson from the Ghana-Nigeria saga of 1969/1983 and the Nigeria–South Africa saga of 1994–2025 is clear: unreciprocated altruism leads to contempt. Nigeria must reclaim respect by wielding power more assertively. As the saying goes, charity begins at home. We will help our African brothers and sisters – but only on our terms, not as fools in a one-sided charade.

The message to Accra and Pretoria is therefore unmistakable: Nigeria will no longer subsidize or support any country that mistreats its people or undermines its interests. If you want Nigeria’s friendship, prove it – in how you treat Nigerians today, and in what you offer Nigeria in partnership. Otherwise, do not be surprised when the “Giant of Africa” takes an “America First” turn as “Nigeria First.” In plain terms, no help unless we too benefit. This is the realpolitik that has been missing in Nigeria’s approach.
Nigeria’s era of being the gentle giant, the blank-check big brother, is over. Those who have exploited our goodwill should brace themselves – a new, assertive Nigeria is rising. We will still champion Africa, but we will champion Nigeria above all. And perhaps, when our neighbors realize that Nigeria’s help is conditional and not guaranteed, they will learn to show a bit more respect and gratitude. If not, they are welcome to try surviving without Nigeria’s markets, Nigeria’s oil, Nigeria’s funds, and Nigeria’s brains. The time of being everybody’s big brother and nobody’s priority is gone. No more free passes – respect us, or do without us.
Nigeria has earned that respect the hard way, and going forward, we will accept nothing less.

African unity is precious, but it cannot thrive on ingratitude. To Ghana, to South Africa, and to any others who would demean Nigerians while benefiting from Nigeria: the era of free help is finished. Never again will we allow our citizens to be slaughtered or our investments seized without a proportional response. We are pulling up the drawbridge unless you come to us in genuine fraternity. In the gospel of geopolitics, as the Americans practice, “There are no permanent friends, only permanent interests.” Nigeria’s interest is to be treated with the dignity deserving of our contributions. The sooner our African “friends” learn this, the better for all – for a partnership of equals beats a resentful patron-client dynamic any day.

Nigeria will continue to rise, and we invite our African brethren to rise with us – but on fair terms. Brotherhood must be earned and maintained, not assumed. It is a new dawn in Nigeria’s foreign policy: Nigeria first, Nigeria foremost. Those who doubt our resolve, take note – a giant has woken up, and it will no longer be the easygoing giant it once was. It will be a just giant, a principled giant, but also a giant that demands its due. And that is ultimately better for Africa, too – for a Nigeria that is strong and respected will be all the more capable of leading Africa’s renaissance, this time with partners who truly value its friendship.

Nigeria has shown its love for Africa in deeds; now Africa must show respect for Nigeria – or face the consequences. No more Mr. Nice Giant.

References
Aderemi Tijani, A. (2019, March 6). Ghana’s deportation of Nigerians is a new chapter in a very ugly history that must end. African Liberty.
Daily Guide. (2009, July 10). Ghana stands still as Kufuor speaks. Modern Ghana (Politics).
Global Times (GNA report). (2009, June 22). Nigeria to give Ghana more crude oil on extended credit period. Global Times (China). data)